


High School is an Awkward Time for All of Us

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Fluff and Smut, Highschool AU, M/M, Multi, NSFW, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex, highschool, underage everything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-06
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-13 07:25:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4513110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marco is a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure.<br/>Jean is more of a punk rock muffin.<br/>High school is about to get somewhat enjoyable.</p><p>This is going to be a multi-chapter fic with short chapters updated whenever I can manage them, and I hope you enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Eren, I don't know..." Marco said, fidgeting. He wondered how even got in this situation in the first place.

"Dude, we are going to get you laid by the time school starts." Eren said, eagerly pulling into the Walgreens parking lot. "But you gotta be prepared. Now go on in there and get some condoms and lube!"

Marco squirmed uneasily. "Eren, can't you come with me?"

Eren's face was stern; he was acting like a total mom. "Marco, you are gonna have to learn how to do this on your own. You're a grown man, and a grown man buys his own condoms."

Marco sighed and looked over at Eren, resigned. "There's no way I'm getting out of this, is there?"

Eren grinned wide at him. "Nope!"

Marco sighed, and got out of the car. He tried to refrain from fidgeting, and attempted to look as chill as possible. He made his way to the personal items section,inconspicuous.

Step one was a success.

Marco squared up his shoulders and began to look for the right box when it hit him. He didn’t know what he was doing. He didn't know what size to get. He didn't know what brand to get. Was there a certain kind that you should or shouldn't use if you're gay? He should have asked Eren before coming in here. But he couldn’t go outside and ask and then come back in, and-

"Need help?" A low voice asked.

Marco froze, startled, before turning to find a guy about his age staring back at him. He had two-toned hair, a devil-may-care attitude, and a punk rock feel to him. It didn't help that he was slim and angular. Marco's exact opposite. Worse, he was Marco's type.

"Uh," Marco said. "I've never, uh," he sputtered, gesturing to the condoms and hoping his face wasn’t as red as it felt.

"It's okay, I've been there." The guy held his hands up in a sign of peace. "No shame in it. I'll help you."

Marco flushed, he could feel the heat build up in his cheeks.

"Mind if I ask how big it is?" The stranger asked.

"How big what..." Marco began, but the gesture the stranger made gave Marco some understanding. Too embarrassed to say anything, he held his pointer fingers the approximate distance from each other.

The stranger's eyebrows lifted in appreciative surprise, before bending down to pick out a box.

"Here you go, these should be satisfactory." The stranger held out the box to Marco, who gently took it from him.

"Thanks, uh," Marco began, trying to remember if the stranger told him his name.

"Jean," the stranger said.

"Marco. Uh, thanks, Jean." Marco gave a little nod and smile, not sure how to act.

"Your welcome," Jean said, tilting his head in acknowledgement, before walking towards the end of the aisle.

“Hey!” Marco called. Jean turned and looked back at him, and Marco attempted to ask the question he needed an answer to. Even if Jean was straight, he’d still know what kind of lube to get, right? Straight people used lube too, didn’t they? Sometimes? “Can you, uh, help me with the second thing, too?”

Jean’s face held a confused expression, but in a flash of understanding, it melted away. “Oh. yeah, sure.” He strode back to Marco, and examined the small section of lube. Then he picked up a green bottle of water-based lube and handed it to Marco. “Anything else you need help with?”

Marco shook his head, smiling. He decided to attempt some witty banter. “Not unless you can find me a partner.”

Jean actually smiled at that, and Marco could have sworn he looked a little embarrassed. “I’d need to find myself one first.”

Marco laughed, not sure if it was out of nervousness or genuine humor. He thanked Jean, and turned to go to the register before he melted into a puddle of embarrassment.

He paid, unable to make eye contact with the cashier, and hurried to Eren’s car.


	2. One Thing Leads to Another...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You know how these awkward teenage things go. One thing happens, and then another, then another...

It had totally flown over Marco’s head that Eren would interrogate him in the car. He should have seen it coming, but of course he hadn’t had the forethought to prepare himself for the interrogation.

"So..." Eren prompted, a shit-eating grin on his face, eager to drink up the juicy details of Marco's embarrassment. "How'd it go?"

Marco was determined not to tell what happened. Looking Eren directly in the eye and trying to calm himself, he responded evenly; "Good."

Eren didn't give up so easy. "You got everything? You sure it will fit? I've seen you naked, dude, and if you didn't get extra large-"

Marco's face might as well been on fire because it spent so much time hot. "I got everything. Proper sized condoms and a lube that's compatible."

Eren raised his eyebrows. "Someone did his research," he said simply, putting the car into reverse and pulling out.

Marco looked out the window, trying not to let Eren see the lie on his face.

  
  


It was a week before school started. Eren was having a party at his house because his dad was out of town (again) and Eren demanded Marco attend.

"I am having Mikasa invite all her male friends. I know the guys she hangs with are all your type so you are not leaving the party without a dance partner, my friend. You have to come; if you don't, I won't do my summer homework."

"Eren, you should do your school work regardless of what I do," Marco pleaded. But it was no use. Eren was adamant.

"Nope. I will burn it. It will not be completed. Or turned in. Or made up. Unless you come Saturday."

So, of course, Marco was standing in front of the closet mirror in his room, with clothes thrown around on the floor with abandon. He had on a flannel, the sleeves rolled up and black straight leg jeans. He felt ridiculous in the combination, he was more Melanie Martinez than My Chemical Romance, but he felt he should dress like the people who are gonna be at this thing. He sighed, and stripped. He plucked a pair of light wash skinny jeans, and a thin, fitted white t-shirt with a black heart stitched into the breast pocket. He rolled up the sleeve' ends and slipped his feet into his baby blue converse. He slipped on a beanie to match the shoes, and felt relaxed and comfortable in his aesthetic. Confirming his appearance in the mirror, he grabbed his wallet, his phone, and his keys, before setting out for the short walk down the street.

The sun had just set, and the hot air swirled around him, providing a slightly cooling breeze. The sky was clear, and it wasn't too humid. Great weather for their last Saturday of freedom. It was calming, and Marco was able to release some of the anxiety that had been building in him. He had never been to a real party. He knew Eren often went to or hosted them, but Marco never tagged along. But knowing Eren, he was probably praying Marco wouldn't  show so he wouldn't have to do his homework. Marco expelled a heavy breath and focused on the soft sound of his shoes hitting the concrete, a regular rhythm that slowed his thoughts and heartbeats.

Marco reached the Jaeger house, a small ranch with a desperate need for a remodel. Cars Marco didn't recognized were parked in the driveway and spilled into the street, and Eren had taped an X onto either side of the mailbox in bright pink duct tape.

Marco tugged on his shirt, wiped his hands on his jeans, and just walked inside.

At first, he didn't  recognize the place. The furniture had been moved to create a dance floor on the hardwood, and the couches were pushed into the corners. The coffee table wasn't even in the room. The lights were off, leaving white Christmas lights strung around the edges of where the wall met the ceiling. The old stereo system Mikasa had bought at a garage sale for $15 was playing music from an ipod. The thick bass of some alternative rock song thudded through the room, vibrations making the hair on Marco's neck stand on end. Then, of course, there were the people.

There were so many guys in black skinny jeans and dyed hair Marco thought he had died and went to grungey gayboy heaven. The room was filled with teenagers, some swaying to the music and some making out and some just talking, plastic cups in their hands. Three girls in the back were passing around a blunt, just relaxing on one of the couches.

Marco, feeling squeezed and trapped and overwhelmed, made his way to the kitchen, looking for Eren.

In the kitchen, the lights were on and the table was covered in bottles and plastic cups. There were a few bags of chips too, including wheat thins. If they decided to drink, at least they were being smart about it, right? People also inhabited this space, but it was far less crowded and energy filled. Marco scanned the kitchen, searching for Eren. He slowly made his way through the hallway to Eren's room. He found Eren there, surrounded by Armin and Connie and Sasha. Their familiar faces lifted all of his worry off his chest, and he felt a smile naturally rise to his face.

"Marco!" Eren shouted over the noise, calling Marco to him. Marco approached the group, feeling more at home.

Everyone said hey and hello, and Marco replied with a nod.

"Oh! Did I tell you guys?" Eren shouted with sudden excitement. Marco felt his anxiety set back in as everyone looked at him in interest.

"Eren..." Marco pleaded with his eyes, and Eren looked at him and nodded as if he understood what Marco was asking.

Eren leaned into their circle, and very secretly whisper-shouted, "We are going to get Marco laid tonight if it is the last thing we do!"

Connie and Sasha shared a look, high fived, and giggled. Armin looked vaguely amused while also worried for Marco's well being, and Eren was dead serious, yet eager. Their expressions stabbed a knife of dread into Marco's stomach and twisted.

"You really don't have to do that, I'm fine-"

"C'mon, Marco!" Sasha encouraged, smiling at him.

"Yeah," Connie chimed in. "You should get laid before our teen years of fun and idiocy are over! We are seniors, dude! We won't get another summer!"

Sasha and Eren nodded in eager agreement, and Marco looked desperately to Armin for help.

"Don't look at me," Armin said, hands up defensively. "You walked right into this one."

Marco looked to the ground, defeated, and grumbled. "Fine."

Sasha wasted no time, and grabbed Eren by the arm. "Let's go find Marco a MAN!"

She tugged Eren back into the living room and Connie, Marco, and Armin followed with different levels of enthusiasm.

Crowded into an empty corner, the group started evaluating their options.

"Ooh, Marco, what about him?" Sasha exclaimed, pointing to a moderately attractive guy wearing a worn Def Leppard shirt.

"No, Mikasa told me he's straight," Eren said.

"Maybe you are too straight to find a gay man in this crowd," Connie remarked. Marco could have sworn there was a hint of possessiveness in his voice.

"Aww," she said, pouting. She crossed her arms and kept looking.

"What about him?" She said, pointing toward the sliding glass doors that led to the patio.

Marco followed her finger, and his gaze landed on the last thing he wanted to see.

Well, not the last. But it still made his stomach churn and push him to instinctively hide behind Eren.

"He likes him," Eren said, grinning evilly. "And Marco is lucky, he is setting off my gaydar."

Marco tried to shrink himself, tried to find a way out of the situation. That's when Sasha interrupted his internal panic.

"Marco, if you want him, you might wanna hurry over there. It looks like he's making a really shitty attempt to flirt with Mikasa."

Marco popped up, hurt, and peered over Eren's shoulder and locked eyes with the guy.

Oh sweet Jesus, Marco thought as he stared straight into those brown eyes. Please don't recognize me.

The guy excused himself from the conversation and made his way over to the corner in which they were hiding in.

"Oooooh," Sasha whispered, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

Marco tried not to let the heat in his cheeks melt his face off when they guy finally stopped right in front of him.

"Holy shit!" Jean said, gesturing with the cup in his hand. "Is that you, Marco?"

"Haha, yeah," Marco managed. "It's me."

"Wait," Eren interrupted. "You know him?" He asked Marco.

"We spoke once." Marco said, trying not to let his embarrassment show.

"It was nothing," Jean interjected, smiling mischievously. He caught Marco's eyes and winked, and Marco tried his best to keep his expression neutral.

"My name is Jean. I work with Mikasa" He nodded to them. "How do you guys know her?"

Eren got offended and defensive immediately, Marco could see it in his face. "I'm her brother," he said, heat lacing the words.

"Eren," Armin said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Eren relaxed a little, but Marco knew that there was no way Eren would ever like Jean, or be civil.

"Chill out," Jean said, hands up in innocence. "I didn't know."

Eren curled his fingers into fists, and Marco, as much as he didn't want to be involved, intervened before Eren threw a punch.

"Hey, uh, Jean, why don't we go get a drink?"

Jean looked over to Marco, and his expression softened. "Sure, mine is getting empty anyway."

They left the corner, Marco leading the way and Jean awkwardly tailing. When they got into the kitchen, Marco grabbed a bottle of fruit punch Gatorade and poured a good amount of tequila in it. He couldn't survive this night sober. He had tried, oh, he had tried, and look where it got him. Jean just grabbed the two liter of diet Coke and Jack and mixed them in his cup. There was more Jack than Coke, but Marco wasn't gonna say anything.

"Sorry about Eren," Marco said. "He gets really angry when he's drunk, and he is super defensive of Mikasa."

"It's whatever," Jean said, shrugging it off. "So what's up with you?"

And just like that, they fell into easy conversation. Marco described how he had spent the last few days doing his summer homework, and how he spent the rest of the summer just hanging out with different friends, aimless and free. After they consumed enough alcohol, Jean told Marco about his parent's divorce, which was why when he finished this last year of school, he moved to St. Maria. He got a job at the gas station to get out of his house and save up for college.

"It's like I'm that rich girl from the Breakfast Club. My parents just use me to get back at each other."

Marco learned that Jean was currently living with his mom because she was nice on occasion. And she didn't really care what he did.

They talked about siblings, Marco's loving little sisters and Jean's callous brother. They talked about friends, Jean's friends in this town consisted of Mikasa's group and Marco revealed that his friends were really just Eren's friends. They talked about all the things they wanted for themselves. Jean just wanted to get away from his parents and be his own person, while Marco just wanted to help people and be satisfied with his life. They talked about all the lovers they never had. Marco just never had any chances. Jean had been with quite a few people before, some he couldn't even remember, but never loved.

"I'm starting to think it isn't real," he admitted, staring into his drink. He lifted his head and looked at Marco, searching for something.

"Maybe it's not." Marco said. "But there has to be more to life than romantic bullshit, right?"

Jean smirked ironically. "There's always sex."

They locked eyes, and Marco felt his heartbeat increase, and his breath catch in his throat. Jean's gaze had caught him, like a fly in those honey colored eyes. Marco knew he shouldn't want to do anything like this, but the doubt was drowned out by the wave of tequila that had begun to rush through his veins.

Jean's gaze flicked down, and Marco followed his gaze down to his jeans. Marco was starting to get hard, and frankly, it was very noticeable. Jean looked back up, and Marco met his gaze. His breath caught in his throat.

"Do you want to go up stairs and fix that?" Jean asked, voice low and sultry. Marco's breath hitched in his throat, and he hesitated before he managed a nod. Jean tugged him up out of his chair and led him through the halls. Marco took the lead, slowly walking towards the guest room. once in, he just stood in front of the bed, unsure of what to do. Jean tugged the door shut and locked it, before turning to face Marco. They were face to face; Marco could feel their breath mingling between them. He couldn't lift his eyes from Jean's lips. They were kind of thin, but smooth and pink and there was a small scar just beneath the bottom lip on the left side.

Marco finally peeled his gaze from Jean's lips and looked up to Jean's eyes. They were striking and intense, filled with want. But they were asking a question.

Marco nodded, and Jean's hands were at his hips, pulling him forward. They met, and Marco felt his lips melt under the warmth of Jean's mouth. Feeling brave, or maybe feeling the tequila, Marco pushed forward, dominating Jean's lips. Jean fell back, surprised, and returned the pressure with a sensual intensity. Marco staggered back, and gripped Jean's arms for balance. Jean broke off the kiss, but his hands, which had found their way to Marco's hips, slid forward, and onto Marco's abdomen. Jean gave him a firm push, and Marco fell back onto the bed, gasping for cold air. He had never felt so hot, so heated, in his life. It was like underneath his facade of skin and bone, his heart was set on fire, and it was spreading through his arteries and into every cell of his body.

Marco didn't have time to think about it further, as Jean had climbed onto his lap, his knees straddling Marco's thighs. Jean cradled Marco's jaw in one hand, and drew Marco toward him like he had an unquenchable thirst. His urgency caused Marco's heart to skip a beat, and their lips locked onto each other. Marco's hands found their way into Jean's hair, and pulled it tight within his fists. Jean let out a moan against Marco's mouth, and Marco tugged harder. Jean's hands landed on Marco's shoulders, pushing him down so he was lying on his back. Jean crawled forward, and leaned down to kiss Marco once more. Their kisses were needy, urgent, like they couldn't get enough of each other. One of Marco's hands fisted into Jean's shirt, tugging it up. Jean broke their kiss but when he went back in, he didn't hit Marco's lips, he went for his neck.

Marco shuddered with pleasure when Jean's lips hit his neck, right on his pulse. Marco felt a sharp pain, and he sucked in a breath- but it wasn't a bad pain. It was pleasurable, and Marco wanted more. Marco’s nails dug into Jean's arms, which elicited a guttural growl from Jean's throat. One of Jean's hands, which had been resting on the other side of Marco's neck, slipped down his chest and abdomen to rest on the hard bulge in Marco's pants. With ease, Jean unbuttoned Marco's jeans and tugged them down his hips, pulling his briefs down with them. Marco's cock sprung free, and Jean's fingers curled around its length.

Marco shuddered a breath, and suddenly Jean was pumping up and down his length, caressing him gently yet sending intense sparks of heat through Marco's body. He was becoming slick with precome, and all he could sense was the feeling of Jean's hand arousing him more than he had ever been, to a point where it was so pleasurable it was almost painful.

Jean's unoccupied hand pushed up the hem of Marco's shirt, exposing his chest. Jean leaned up so he was once again hovering over Marco's face, and crushed his lips against Marco's in a sloppy kiss,  and Marco started losing control.

"J-Jean, I'm gonna-"


End file.
